


Shimmers of Hope

by Ramzes



Series: Daenaera Velaryon: Moments [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, Spoilers for Book: The World of Ice and Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2728148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is Daenaera Velaryon, queen to the broken King Aegon III. And she lives on the shimmers of hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shimmers of Hope

When they placed the crown on her beautiful head, Daenaera Velaryon was the happiest girl ever lived. All those eyes looking at her in admiration, all those people bowing to her, all those candles lighting the royal sept better than any sun ever could… And out, there was a sea of people all the way to the foot of Aegon's Hill and even farther away. She could not see any patch of land – there were too many of those who had come to rejoice in the sight of their king and his sweet, lovely bride. Queen! She was now queen, and one that everyone admired.

Everyone except for the King, her so handsome and so distant husband.

In the beginning, it didn't matter so much. She was so very young. A child. It didn't matter at all…

And yet, she was old enough to notice his reticence to be in anyone's company and recognize that it was odd. He was seven years her senior, so he could not be her companion in her pastimes and activities – but he could at least _pretend_ that he was interested when she had something to show him, as other adults did. Daenaera loved it when people smiled for real. He never did. Just like he didn't pretend any interest in her life, he didn't care to even make it look like he was smiling. He scared Daenaera despite all her adoration of him.

As she grew up, it was his dislike of being touched that drew her to despair. How was she supposed to do her duty by him when he wouldn't come to her bed? The crown that she wore now – a real queen crown and not the one fashioned in haste for a child's head – weighed her down. Her sumptuous gowns suffocated her. Necklaces were like snakes coiled about her throat. What queen was she when everyone knew that her king didn't want her? She had become very adept at pretending that she didn't hear the whispers of court, that she didn't know of all those ambassadors trying to bribe her ladies into revealing them the secrets of her bed, as per the state of her sheets. _You're wasting your coins_ , she wanted to scream sometimes. _My flux, that's all the blood you'll ever see there._ Her anger against her royal husband grew, along with her misery.

So did her sympathy. It must be terrible to live with such burden, such inability to be happy. Especially when she had Viserys – his mirror, his constant companion – to compare him to. Viserys, so smitten with Larra. Viserys, ever so charming, always ready for a smile or fast retort that rarely held any real malice – except when addressed at the regents. _How did you manage to keep yourself so… yourself, Brother, after all that you've been through,_ she often wondered and examined him for any telltale signs that he was faking it, that inside, he was as broken and devoid of the ability to feel joy as Aegon. She never found any. And that made her feel even tenderer toward Aegon who didn't need or want her tenderness.

She forbade herself to despair. At night, alone in her huge perfumed bed, she clung to the fervent belief that it would not be forever, reciting all the cases that had revealed to her that her husband's heart was not dead yet. His hand, reaching without hesitation to stroke Baela's scarred cheek when there hadn't been any news from Lord Velaryon in months, and how they learned that he was alive and coming back. Baela shrieked with joy then, hugging everyone around – and when she reached Aegon, he didn't flinch or draw back. Instead, he whirled her around, letting her lead him into a joyous little dance. His anger when they had heard that Rhaena's husband might not be treating her as they thought she should be treated. The day after Viserys' return when she had entered her husband's solar to look for a doll that she thought she might have left there and saw him asleep on the couch, his head on Viserys' shoulder, his hand clutching his brother's as if he would never let go. Both their faces were hard with dried tears and Viserys, clearly barely awaking himself, touched a finger to his lips, warning her not to disturb Aegon's sleep. Those thousand years in the Maegor's Holdfast when he, quite surprisingly, took little Aegon on his knees, looking him in the eye and explaining to him that this was something that they had to endure and they were doing it for him, to keep him safe. Daenaera was quite surprised when the child's whimper lessened in volume, to the relief of everyone around, and even more so when she looked at Viserys' white face. "It's nothing," he said, brushing her concern away, for even at eight, the Queen was quite a bright child who noticed things. "That's what Jacaerys told us before he sent us to…" He paused. "Looks like he's falling asleep," he added, with his usual collected air, looking at his son. "My ears are in Aegon's debt," he finished and Daenaera laughed.

In broad daylight, though, she felt silly for entertaining hopes. Her king didn't want her, that was the truth. He didn't want anyone… How lucky Larra was!

"It won't last forever," Baela said. "Keep faith."

"I try," Daenaera whispered. "But it's so hard."

"I know." Baela's scars had left her purple eyes glinting unnaturally brightly against her skin of melting disfigurement and surpassing loveliness. "That's why we chose you. We believed you could pull it until the end, persist till the moment comes."

The Queen stared at her, uncomprehending. "I thought you chose me because I was lovely and clever," she said. "And a Velaryon. That's what everyone said anyway."

Baela smiled a little and patted her hand. "You were lovely and clever, Daenaera," she said. "But there were thousands of girls just as lovely and clever as you. Yes, being Velaryon helped but it was your self-possession that made us choose you."

Daenaera still couldn't understand.

"You were barely five when we visited Driftmark," Baela explained. "Yet you didn't flinch at the sight of me. The entire time, you kept the pretension that there was nothing out of order, although most children would have run away at the first moment. Or hidden behind their septas. That was when I knew you would have the fortitude to deal with everything a queenly life entails… and Aegon's peculiarities," she added tactfully. "Be patient, my Queen. Your time will come."

 _Yes, it will._ Daenaera could let despair consume her but what good would it do? So she clung to those pearls of memories and waited, refusing to give up on her hope.


End file.
